


The Dai Shimaron Patriot

by ShinyShimaron



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Drama, Dubious Consent, M/M, Master/Servant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-04
Updated: 2011-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-11 11:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyShimaron/pseuds/ShinyShimaron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A captive half-demon soldier is brought before King Belar, challenging his claim to the throne of Dai Shimaron. Belar takes Sir Weller under his wing, but who is using who? Takes place between episodes 27 and 41. Conrad/Belar. Belar POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. King Belar Sits on his Throne

**Author's Note:**

> You all likely know how the story begins, and how it ends. This is my take on what happens in the middle. This originally started as a crack pairing, but the more I thought about it the more I realized that it actually works quite well.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou or its characters.
> 
> Warnings: Dub-con, sexual themes, same sort of violence seen in the anime/manga/novel.

In the land of Dai Shimaron, in the grand palace at the capital city, in a grand hallway adorned in royal splendor, King Belar sat on his throne.

This was his favorite place to be, day in and day out. He sat hunched over, a crooked smile on his crooked face, the self-styled most powerful man in the world, king of the most powerful country in said world. It was here that he could show his grandiosity, his might. On his throne he was a god. He controlled his peons, sending them scattering to-and-fro across the globe to fulfill his desires. They obeyed him quietly, not a peep of dissent, not a look of abhorrence. They were his people, and the most important thing about his people was that they were his.

The kingship had been passed down to him from his father, to his father from his father's father, and so on, back as far as anyone could remember. Each one carried the name Belar, not Belar the Fourth or Belar the Tenth, just Belar. And so the children grew up knowing only King Belar, and died knowing only King Belar.

Over the years Dai Shimaron's power grew, so the people didn't think about this too much. Belar was a good king, because he treated the citizens of his country well. Of course, he prospered by exploiting the people of other countries, but that was a small matter.

On this day in Dai Shimaron, in the grand palace built with captive half-demon hands in the grand hall decorated by slave labor from Sverella, King Belar sat on his throne.

He was having a good day. He had received word that one of the four powerful boxes, The End of the Land, was hidden in Caloria but would soon be his. He had bought the loyalty of Caloria years ago when he had granted that country protection in exchange for something called the Wincott poison, and they would be unable to refuse his request. He would then have obtained two of the boxes, enough to bring more countries under his control through threat of destruction. So things were going quite well for King Belar.

"Your Majesty," his thoughts were interrupted by a messenger from the outskirts of the country.

"What is it now?" Belar asked impatiently, hoping for news on The End of the Land.

"We have captured a demon from Shin Makoku… he insists on speaking with you."

"What right does someone from that country have to see me? Let him rot in prison with the rest."

"He claims to be a member of the Weller family, Your Majesty."

Belar sat up. "A member of the Weller family? And you captured him? Are you serious?"

"That's what he says, Your Majesty. He claims that he has the right to the throne of Dai Shimaron and is ready to challenge you for it." Belar frowned. Of course, it wouldn't be that simple. No Weller would just submit to him. But still, if it turned out that this person was a key to one of the boxes, it was important that he be kept close. He could be used as a weapon.

"Bring him in, I'll hear what he has to say." Belar slouched down once again. The messenger bowed and left.

The door to the grand hall soon opened. There stood a man flanked by two guards, a good head taller than either of them. A lock of brown hair fell between his eyes unceremoniously. The sleeve of the left arm of his coat was oddly missing, and there were large spots of blood staining his uniform. He looked dirty and worn, but despite this he held himself high and proud, like a mighty warrior, unafraid of his situation or the soldiers that held a sword to his back. He strode forward confidently, and kneeled down before the throne where Belar sat.

"Who are you, and what gives you the right to speak to me?" asked the king.

The soldier raised his head and looked into Belar's eyes before rising.

"My names is Sir Conrart Weller, formerly of Shin Makoku, son of Danhiri Weller, who was also from this country. I am here to challenge your right to the throne on behalf of the Weller family."

King Belar scowled. "We have ruled this country for centuries," he said, "My father was king as was his father before him. You have no such claim."

"Centuries ago, your ancestor took the country by force from the Weller family. You have yet to atone for this. As the last living member of this family, it is my duty to seek restitution, and justice."

"So you are indeed the last of your family? What is to stop me from killing you on the spot and ending this lunacy here and now?" Belar was bluffing. He could not allow Sir Weller to know of his value to Dai Shimaron, else he use it as leverage to receive more power. His ancestor had cut off his own arm to get rid of the key, and Belar feared that this man would do the same.

Sir Weller's eyes narrowed and he smiled.

"My arm," said he.

Belar recoiled. Did he know that his arm was the key to the box?

Sir Weller raised his right arm, the one whose sleeve was still intact and bloodless.

"I am the greatest swordsman in Shin Makoku. I have fought in many wars and seen many battles. No one has proven to be a match for me. Dai Shimaron would be a stronger country with me fighting for it rather than against it." Belar sighed, relieved. The young man was a fool, not knowing his own worth but brazenly leaning on his own skills as a soldier.

"But why a sudden change of heart?" asked Belar, "If you have lived in Shin Makoku so long, and fought on their side, why do you wish to fight for me?"

Sir Weller's smile faded.

"It is true that I have fought for many years for Shin Makoku," he began, "It is, after all, my mother's country. However, despite this, I was not treated well in that country. They do not value the lives of half-demons such as I. I am treated as scum, lower than dirt. In the wars, they sought to get rid of me simply because of my parentage. I managed to survive, but I have never forgotten my treatment at the hands of the demons. My father, a human, often brought me to this beautiful country, which he always regarded as his home. He instilled in me a deep love for Dai Shimaron. I have waited all my life for the opportunity to present myself to you and renounce my loyalty to Shin Makoku. The time has come. If you wish to throw that away and slaughter me where I stand, then at least I die where I belong." The haughtiness in his eyes had disappeared, and he looked soft, almost wistful.

Belar leaned back and smiled. He had this fool where he wanted him, begging to be of service to Dai Shimaron. He would be of more use than he knew.

"I suppose I may give you a chance to prove your loyalty," said Belar. "I will recognize your right to the throne. However, my own right is superior to yours as King Belar, and I will not step down. That being said..." his eyes narrowed and his smile widened, "If you were to prove your loyalty to me and to Dai Shimaron, there could be great rewards in it for you."

Sir Weller looked at him suspiciously. "Such as?"

"I have yet to produce an heir, and I need someone who I can trust by my side in his place. If you do as I say and use your arm for this country whole-heartedly… you could one day inherit the throne of Dai Shimaron." Belar, of course, had no intention of giving the throne to Sir Weller. The most important thing was to string him along so that his arm was nearby. Once the time came to use his arm he would cast Sir Weller out like garbage and end his wretched family line.

Sir Weller seemed to be considering his request.

"If it is loyalty you want, then you shall have it," he said. Belar reached out his hand. Sir Weller slowly approached, then kneeled down and kissed it. Then he looked up at Belar with piercing eyes.

"The Weller family is known for their loyalty," said he, "You will not be disappointed." Then he rose and strode from the grand hall. Belar sat on his throne, deep in thought.


	2. The Bandaged Arm

It was dawn. King Belar stood in the courtyard, a team of his greatest warriors assembled before him. He had lain awake a good part of the night, contemplating the recent turn of events. Having Sir Weller on his side could turn the tide of success in Dai Shimaron's favor, to be sure. But he wasn't convinced of the soldier's motives. Why did he suddenly show up out of the blue? What was his real motivation? Was it acceptance? A need for power that Shin Makoku would not grant him?

Whatever it was, it was Belar's duty to fulfill it. He had to do whatever it took to keep Sir Weller within his grasp, close to the End of the Wind. Belar knew he couldn't trust Conrart with his secrets, at least not yet… but he had to at least pretend to give him what he wanted.

So Belar stood outside, watching his greatest warriors spar. It was one of his favorite activities. Seeing them fight reinforced the might of Dai Shimaron in his mind. What other nation could assemble such a collection of great men and women? Better yet, he would soon be holding an event called the World's Greatest Fighter tournament, and these warriors would play a useful part. Every few years, the tournament was held in order to show Dai Shimaron's allies its power and might. Many countries would compete in the tournament, losing to Dai Shimaron every time. Belar made sure of it. He hired the strongest fighters, the proudest warriors, the greatest swordsmen to fight for him, and they always came out victorious. The other countries could barely compete. This was the perfect opportunity for Sir Weller to show his skills in battle. If he proved to be half as good as he claimed, Belar would be able to make great use of him.

Sir Weller strode into the courtyard, dressed in the Dai Shimaron uniform that had been prepared for him. Upon seeing the warriors sparring he stopped on the edge, watching them silently. King Belar hobbled towards him. His long, kingly robes were difficult to walk in.

"Sir Weller! There you are." He called. Conrart turned towards him, stood up straight, and clicked his heels together in salute.

"You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, yes, come stand by me." Sir Weller obeyed.

"You see here, these are my greatest warriors. They come from all over the world, you know. They are here to compete in the World's Greatest Fighter tournament. Each wishes to fight for Dai Shimaron, but I can only choose three competitors." Sir Weller nodded.

"This tournament is known well around the world," he said, "It would be an honor to see your warriors fight."

"See them fight? If you are as good as you say you are, you will be one of the competitors! I have brought you here to prove your skills in combat to me." Conrart smiled knowingly.

"Do you wish for me to kill them, or simply subdue them?"

"No need for killing, you just need to disarm them."

Conrart unsheathed his sword. "As you wish."

The opponents stood in a line at one side of the courtyard. King Belar sat on a slightly less-ornate throne that had been brought out for him. He had a wicked smile on his face. He was finally going to see some action.

His first opponent stepped up. A skinny man, he was adept at dodging attacks and wearing out his opponent. But he was no match for Sir Weller, who had disarmed him and brought him to his knees in a matter of seconds. The second opponent, as well as the third, both taken down immediately. Sir Weller hadn't broken a sweat. He stood in the courtyard, seemingly bored, as warrior after warrior approached him only to be immediately defeated. The only fighters that gave him any sort of trouble were the users of houryoku. As Sir Weller was not a magic user, he had little defense against such arts. Nevertheless King Belar's greatest magic users were no match for him, and they were dismantled within minutes.

King Belar looked on, amazed. Were all demon soldiers this adept at fighting? Did they all sweep through their opponents with such grace, such power? Sir Weller seemed to defeat his opponents methodically, as if he was cooking with a recipe he had used over and over. For every tactic used against him he had a counter. Every attempt to overtake him was rebuffed. Every thrust of the sword was parried; every swipe of the axe was dodged. It wasn't long before all of Dai Shimaron's greatest warriors sat on the floor, nursing sore arms and legs and shooting angry looks at the one who had humiliated them in front of their king.

Sir Weller sheathed his sword and returned to his master's side, saying nothing. Belar eyed him for a while. This man was powerful. He was indeed a great asset to Dai Shimaron… but he could also be a great enemy. If Belar allowed him to think that he had the upper hand in his kingdom things could quickly spiral out of control. He needed to keep him on the defensive. As the other warriors dragged themselves back to the barracks, Belar turned to his new servant.

"That scar," he said, "where did you get it?" Sir Weller stared straight ahead, unmoving.

"I received this scar in the war against Dai Shimaron, twenty years ago." His hand fingered the sheath of his sword absent-mindedly.

"One of my own soldiers gave you the scar, then?"

"Yes. One of your greatest warriors. He paid for it with his life." Now his eyes were fixed on the ground before him.

"Tell me, Sir Weller, how I am supposed to trust you when you dealt such a blow to my country so long ago?" Sir Weller's hand relaxed from the sword. He was lost in thought.

"Twenty years ago, my father's country went to war with my mother's. It was my duty to fight, to defend my homeland. But I did not love it." His eyes narrowed. "No, I regretted each life that I took, each soldier that fell to my sword. I was fighting for a country that hated me." Conrart looked gravely into Belar's eyes. "My own brother detested me and considered me filth. My own uncle sent me to the front lines in order to die. I defended my country. I defeated the Dai Shimaron army. I won a great victory for Shin Makoku. But in the end, it was I who lost. My friends, my mother's throne, the love of my life…"

"If you did not wish to fight for them, you could have defected. Why wait until now?"

"When I returned, I was regarded as a hero. The 'Lion of Lutenberg,' they called me. Suddenly, after I had given everything I had, they saw my worth. But their sentiments were worthless to me. I paid the ultimate price for acceptance. But I never, ever forgot how I was treated during the war. And I know that should Dai Shimaron go to war with Shin Makoku again, my loyalties will again be suspect, not because of my actions, but because of what I am. After all I have done, my own brother still does not trust me. So I ask you, what would you do? Would you continue to fight for a people so hell-bent on destroying you and everything you love? Or would you seek to use your sword to fight for those who will be grateful for it?" Conrart touched his bandaged arm absent-mindedly. "My arm can only fight for one country. To continue to fight for Shin Makoku would be to play with a snake when one has already been bitten. I see that now."

Belar sat silently for a while, in thought. Finally, he asked what was on his mind.

"Is the throne of Dai Shimaron truly what you want, or is there something else?" Sir Weller looked down at him sternly.

"What I want… is a piece of my home. A piece of Dai Shimaron."

"And you will do… anything, to get it?"

"I will do what you ask me to do. Allow me to prove to you my loyalty. I understand that you do not trust my motives. Why would you? I am a soldier from a foreign land. Let me show you my loyalty. I will do whatever you ask."

"Would you execute the people you called friends? Fight against you own family?"

"I have no friends. I have no family. They are dead to me, and chances are, I am dead to them. They do not know I am here, though they will soon enough. I will do what it takes to prove my loyalty to you, and if those people stand in my way, I will remove them as obstacles."

"The people of Shin Makoku are indeed obstacles to my plans. I wish to rule the world one day, Sir Weller, and you are going to make that happen." Sir Weller smiled.

"It would be an honor to help bring such glory to Dai Shimaron," said he.

"Then fight for me, in the World's Greatest Fighter tournament. With your arm we will be victorious once again." He glanced at Sir Weller's bandaged arm.

"By the way, what happened to your arm? Training accident?"

Conrart touched the bandage and smiled.

"It's nothing. Almost healed. In fact… it feels brand new."


	3. The World's Greatest Fighter

King Belar sat on his throne. Angrily. He had just obtained word that the second box, The End of the Land, had been lost to his enemy nation, Shin Makoku.

"You fool! How did you lose it?" he asked the cowering Small Shimaron representative in front of him. "You told me it was in our hands!"

"Sir… it was Maxine. He decided to test the box's power, but he used the wrong key…"

"He had a key? What key?"

The messenger looked up at Belar with fearful eyes.

"The arm of a member of the Weller family."

"What?" Belar rose and began to pace furiously.

"The demons came out of nowhere, Your Majesty. They used some sort of power to subdue to the box… and then they took it back to Shin Makoku."

"Hell and damnation! Shou Shimaron is useless. I should string you up by your ankles for this." He sat down once again, glowering.

"Your Majesty? What is you command?"

"Just leave my sight." There were so many things to think about.

Shin Makoku was searching for the boxes as well? He would have to step up security on The End of the Wind, which was already in his possession. A great deal of Dai Shimaron soldiers were preoccupied with maintaining security at the upcoming World's Greatest Fighter Tournament, but after that… he wouldn't let it leave his sight.

Of course, there was the matter of Shou Shimaron claiming that the arm of a Weller had been used to activate The End of the Land. Impossible. Either they were mistaken, or Sir Weller was lying about being the last remaining Weller. Perhaps he wasn't lying, and simply didn't know that another member of his family existed. Of course, King Belar did not think for one second that the arm in the box was actually his. Sir Weller did, after all, have both of his arms. Belar had seen them with his own two eyes.

He quickly realized that he could not confront Conrart on the matter. As far as he knew, Sir Weller did not know that the boxes existed, let alone that his own arm was the key to one of them. To demand an explanation would be to give him too much information, too much power. Belar would have to get to the bottom of this on his own.

In the mean time, with both Shin Makoku and Dai Shimaron possessing one box each, Belar would have to step up the search for the third and fourth boxes. If he was going to use them in order to bring the world under his control, he needed to make sure that he possessed more than any other nation. Obtaining the last two boxes would ensure his ultimate control.

But still, more than anything, thoughts of his new charge continually crept into King Belar's mind. He found himself hoping that Sir Weller was being wholly truthful with him. Belar needed him… he was a great asset to Dai Shimaron. Belar saw the upcoming tournament as a great opportunity to test Sir Weller's loyalty.

King Belar arrived at the Dai Shimaron arena, competitors in tow. In order to decide what country was to compete in the tournament against Dai Shimaron, he had devised a sled race that took place over miles of snowy terrain. This ensured that a great deal of energy would be sapped from whoever won, making the tournament easier for Dai Shimaron to win. Not that Belar thought he stood a chance of losing. Dai Shimaron was home to the world's greatest fighters… and possibly, the greatest warrior of them all.

He entered his viewing box at the very top of the coliseum. It was huge, the greatest sporting arena in the world. Tens of thousands of people had showed up to view this event. King Belar beamed and held out his arms to his people, who cheered at him and called his name. There was no doubt in his mind that they loved their king more than anyone else.

Two members of the Royal Guard flanked their king on either side. And behind him, hiding from sight, stood Sir Weller. Belar had decided that he would be the third opponent to fight. He didn't want to use Conrart unless he absolutely had to in order to win. Either way, it was sure to be an interesting show. Belar happily sipped on wine from a goblet. Though he had brought The End of the Wind to the tournament as well, just to have it near, the boxes were far from his mind at this moment.

The winning team of the sled race was Caloria. A small nation, they weren't expected to put up much of a fight. They stood on the platform triumphantly while people cheered for them, and also jeered at them for daring to challenge the might of Dai Shimaron. Belar looked forward to sending them home in humiliation, as he did at the end of every tournament. He rose from his seat to address the crowd, raising his hand.

"Today, on this very day, I am very happy to say that the World's Greatest Fighter Tournament, held every four years, takes place in the spirit of fair play. To the fighters of Caloria who have made it, and our beloved Dai Shimaron warriors: fight with all your heart! The winner will receive unlimited riches." He happily returned to his seat. He turned to Sir Weller.

"You should enjoy this as well."

"Yes, sir."

The first opponents entered the arena. Two swordsmen. One was a jewel of the Dai Shimaron army, and the other appeared to be a peasant boy from Caloria. He was skinny and blonde, and didn't look like much from what Belar could see.

The Dai Shimaron representative unsheathed his twin swords. Sir Weller said nothing, but leaned forward, watching intently. He must get his skill by watching others' tactics, Belar thought.

The representative rushed his Calorian opponent, but the boy dodged the attack. He was certainly light on his feet. Then, out of nowhere, he quickly disarmed the Dai Shimaron representative, winning the fight.

"What?" yelled Belar, "Over so fast?"

"He's very good," mused Sir Weller, "I wonder who taught him to fight like that?"

"That was a fluke! There is no way a boy that young could have done that!" Conrart fell silent again. The crowd loudly booed and jeered at the upset. Belar sat with his head in the palm of his hand, glowering for the second time in as many days.

The second Dai Shimaron representative entered the field. Belar was very curious to see how this man would fight. He did not know much about the fighter, only that he had defeated Belar's other warriors handily in order to fight for him. Of course, Belar accepted his request to represent Dai Shimaron immediately. With him as the second opponent and Sir Weller as the third, it would ensure that Dai Shimaron wins the competition, regardless of the loss of the first round. Belar perked up a little.

His opponent was a young man dressed in rugged, quaint human clothing. He had strong muscles and looked like he knew how to use a sword… but would it be enough to defeat this polished stranger in the Dai Shimaron uniform? Again, Sir Weller seemed to be observing the fight closely.

"Who do you think will win, Sir Weller?" asked Belar, smiling.

"Of course, the Dai Shimaron representative," he replied.

"A very good answer."

The fight began. The Calorian rushed his opponent, who dodged the attack. They seemed to be evenly matched. Each swing of the sword by one was handily dodged by the other. After a few minutes of neither opponent getting nowhere, the Dai Shimaron opponent finally managed to disarm the young man from Caloria. The victory went to Dai Shimaron.

"Hah! That is more like it," King Belar smiled. "I knew that man would not fail us."

"As did I." said Sir Weller. The crowd roared with approval. But the Dai Shimaron representative did not seem to want to quit. He had to be held back by guards as he attempted to rush the opponent from Caloria. Belar scowled.

"He must be deranged." He'd have to be more careful in choosing representatives in future tournaments.

"I didn't think they'd make it to the third round," he continued, "but no matter… it increases the excitement. Right?" Sir Weller said nothing.

"This is the final fight. I'm counting on you." Conrart bowed and headed down to the ground floor. While Belar was disappointed that one of the Dai Shimaron representatives had been defeated, at least he would get to see Sir Weller in action again.

The third Calorian opponent stood in the center of the coliseum. Like the first opponent, he was just a boy. Did Caloria not have any adult fighters to represent their country? What was going on? Belar was disappointed. It was clear that Sir Weller would defeat this child easily.

He was entering the arena now. The crowd cheered loudly. It was beginning to snow. Sir Weller walked out slowly, purposefully. His opponent, upon seeing him, immediately rushed forward. What was he doing? He tripped over his own feet and fell face-first to the floor. Was this a joke?

Sir Weller knelt down and held out a hand to help his opponent up. Ever the perfect gentleman, Belar smiled. If anything, he would show clearly to the crowds Dai Shimaron's stance on benevolence and fair play…

The boy from Caloria looked surprised even to be there. He stared up at Sir Weller with a dumbfounded look on his face. What was he expecting? He was facing off against Dai Shimaron's greatest warrior. This was clearly a privilege for the boy. Perhaps Belar would meet him after the battle and give him something to bring back to his family to show his generosity.

Sir Weller and the boy appeared to be deep in conversation. Belar hunched down in his chair. This was a fighter's tournament, not social hour. Stop talking and fight!

The second Calorian team mate called out something form the box, apparently trying to get the lad to fight. The gate in front of their box crashed down, as a sign that they were not to interfere. Sir Weller rose and withdrew his sword. Finally, the match was beginning. The crowd roared again. They clearly were enjoying the drama.

The boy charged and Conrart blocked him easily. With a simple raise of his arm he threw the boy off of him. Over and over the Calorian swung his sword awkwardly as Sir Weller blocked it with ease. He clearly didn't even need to try, his opponent's skill was so weak. The win was certainly going to Dai Shimaron. Belar felt a rush of pride and he smiled.

"As long as he's on our side, the world is ours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The trash-talking between Josak and Adelbert is pretty damn hard to write, you know. How am I supposed to say, "Then they stood there for three minutes and talked in between each swing of the sword" without sounding stupid? Fight already!


	4. The Maou of Shin Makoku

It was snowing. A thin coat of white powder fell on the crowd in Dai Shimaron's coliseum. In his private viewing box, King Belar watched the World's Greatest Fighter in action.

The battle had quickly become boring. While the competitor from Caloria clearly did not have the skills to defeat Sir Weller, the Dai Shimaron representative seemed unwilling to finish the fight. He simply blocked each attack, never advancing nor attacking.

"What is he doing?" growled Belar. His pride in his newest conquest was turning sour. "Doesn't he want to claim victory?" Perhaps he was dragging the fight out, stringing his opponent along. Or maybe he was trying to give the crowd something to look at? Either way, if he wished to play with an opponent he could have waited for someone better. The boy looked exhausted. He waved his sword in Conrart's general direction.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Dai Shimaron's second representative rushed the field, charging the boy from Caloria. Surprised, Sir Weller whirled around and blocked his attack.

"Who ordered this interruption?" barked Belar. "Someone get him out of there!"

The man in the black Dai Shimaron uniform seemed intent on killing the Calorian representative. Whether he filled with some sort of bloodlust, or if he had something against the Calorian people, King Belar did not know. The man put his sword to the ground and the earth began to tremble. He was using human magic! The ground surrounding Sir Weller broke apart and he was quickly encased in a shell of earth. The man in black was then free to focus his assault on the representative from Caloria.

King Belar was now standing, calling for his guards to settle the interference. If it somehow caused Dai Shimaron to lose there would be hell to pay. If only Sir Weller had ended the fight instead of dragging it on! What was he thinking?

"What in the world is he…?" the Dai Shimaron representative stood in front of the Calorian boy, apparently ready to end his life once and for all. Sir Weller had released himself from the trap and was running towards them, apparently attempting to break up the fight. He stopped and yelled something at the man in the black… who immediately stopped his charge and whirled around. Did they know each other?

At the same time, the fellow representatives from Caloria broke out of their prison and joined their friend's side. A bloodbath would ensue if Belar didn't put a stop to it. The referee from Dai Shimaron was attempting to send everyone back to their seats so the match could resume. Belar lifted his hands to his people.

"Calm down, my people!" he said. "I understand your concerns. This confusion must not occur during a World's Greatest Fighter Tournament match. This interruption besmirches the rich history of the Tournament and is a disgrace to its participants. It will not stand! In order not to despoil this magnificent tournament, I declare that the match cannot proceed any further. Thus, because it is the defending champion, Dai Shimaron is, by default, still the champion." Belar was smiling. He had forced it, but Dai Shimaron had won the tournament once again. He lowered his hands.

"Also, those who have disrupted this tournament will receive severe punishment! Capture the representatives from Caloria!" Soldiers charged the group in the middle. Belar was still grinning. He would be able to show his people the might of Dai Shimaron's army, at the very least. Sir Weller stepped back to let the soldiers do their work. The man in black walked slowly towards his seat. Belar would have to deal with him later.

Belar was leaning in to watch his mighty soldiers do their work when he recoiled. There was a faint glow coming from the middle of the group of Calorians. Suddenly, a great wind broke out, swirling around the entire stadium! People were gripping their seats in order to prevent being blown away. Soldiers were knocked off of their feet, sent careening back. The expensive hat on Belar's head went flying, never to be seen again. Only Sir Weller was still standing, his sword thrust into the ground, as if he had been expecting this great sorcery to occur. And then there was the voice. It spoke softly, yet could be heard by everyone in the area, as if by magic.

"When events do not go your way, you brandish your sword high above your head in order to distort the truth. How cowardly. You shall atone for the sin of ruining this dignified sport!" The ground began to tremble and crack. "Spilling blood is not my style, but it cannot be helped. Punishment!"

"It's a demon! A demon has come to kill us all!" came the cries from the crowd.

Belar stared in shock and horror, his hair and robes billowing around him. It was a demon…

"Why? Why is a demon here?" Powerful gusts of wind picked up the snow on the ground and sent it up into the air, creating a tornado of snowflakes and water. The crowd was screaming in terror. And then, as if it had never happened the wind stopped. The boy from Caloria lay in the arms of his friend. And in the ground there was carved an inscription which Belar could not read. The snow began to fall again. Sir Weller released the grasp on his sword and stood still, observing the group of Calorians before them. But Belar knew then that they were not Calorians, but demons from Shin Makoku. That much was clear.

The band of demons ran from the stadium, as the soldiers, slowly got to their feet and began their chase. Sir Weller did not move. Belar's eyes narrowed as he observed his charge. There was only one demon who could use such power in human lands… that demon must have been… the Maou. Sir Weller had been fighting the Maou the entire time, and had done nothing. The traitor.

Belar was standing in a back room in the coliseum. The crowd had cleared and the soldiers were gone. In a chair sat Sir Weller, his eyes downcast, looking at the table in front of him.

"What were you thinking?" asked Belar angrily.

Conrart seemed unusually irritated. "Do you mean when I discovered that the Maou of Shin Makoku was to be the third competitor? Or when one of your poorly-trained representatives was a former soldier of that country?"

"So that's who it was? And you knew it the whole time? What game are you playing? Why didn't you assassinate the Maou on the spot? Why did you allow him to escape? What a fool you are!"

Conrart's hand slammed into the table and he rose angrily.

"It is you who is the fool! What should I have done? Killed a fifteen-year-old boy in front of tens of thousands of civilians? That would have endeared them to you, I'm sure! You ask me what game I am playing… it is yours! Everything that I have done is for the country of Dai Shimaron. I did as you asked and fought in your name. Was it my fault you paid no attention to who was competing in your own competition? Was it my fault your soldiers are poorly trained? Did you expect me to single-handedly defeat the Maou of Shin Makoku and all of his retainers with no backup? I am only one man." He sat down again, and spoke more calmly this time.

"When I saw that he was my opponent, what could I do? I obeyed the rules of the competition. And when the Maou recognized me and asked me why I betrayed him… what could I do but tell him that you were my master now? That I belonged to Dai Shimaron? I was ordered to serve as a competitor in this competition, not your executioner. I did only what I could do at that point in time."

"I had him in my hands! Just a thrust of your sword, that's all it would have taken to make the world fall into my grasp."

Sir Weller looked up at Belar sharply. "What you do not understand," he said, "is that it is the will of the people that makes a king. If I was to kill that boy in front of Dai Shimaron's most powerful, it might serve to turn the will of the people against you. What would be the purpose of a world free for the taking with no king to take it? You asked me to prove my loyalty to you. I could have killed the Maou and used it to turn the will of the people against you. I could have assassinated you on your throne and there would not be a single soldier who could have stopped me. But I instead did as I was told and served you honorably. And now what will you do? Will you try to have me executed? Send me away?"

Belar stopped pacing and peered at Sir Weller with searching eyes.

"I think you know I cannot do that."

Sir Weller stood once again. "Then let us raise the stakes, shall we? Your soldiers are poorly trained. They will never be able to capture the Maou in their current state. I will train them to do so. I know many things about Shin Makoku that will prove valuable to you. Let's use them to Dai Shimaron's benefit. I tire of participating in showy competitions. I am here to fight for you. I have led some of Shin Makoku's greatest armies. Should I not lead yours?"

"You speak as if you are king of this country, Sir Weller," said Belar. "You serve me, and will do as I command. I will not stand for insubordination."

"In Shin Makoku, I was in a position close to the Maou. No one understood his motives like I did. His intentions are the same as yours – to unite the world. I know how he thinks, how he makes decisions. Are you not going to use me? I can literally deliver the Maou into your hands… but I will only act on your order."

Belar walked over to where Sir Weller stood. Putting his hand on the table, he leaned in closely.

"Make good on your promise. The Maou is likely still in Dai Shimaron. Take a contingent of soldiers and search for him." Sir Weller nodded.

"As you wish."


	5. The Lion that Must Be Tamed

Despite his promise, Sir Weller returned empty-handed. Every road, every path out of the city had been well-guarded, but the Maou of Shin Makoku had slipped through his fingers. He entered the hall and kneeled before Belar silently.

"Didn't you claim to know the Maou better than anyone else? How is it you couldn't find him?" asked Belar angrily.

"It is entirely possible that the Maou escaped from Dai Shimaron before we began the search. I did everything I could to find him, but his tracks had been covered well." He did not look up.

"You are useless! After all of your great claims about what you can do for this country, you continue to fail me, Sir Weller."

"I am very sorry that I have disappointed you, Your Majesty." He said no more.

"That is good. You should learn humility. You are my servant and will obey my orders and my orders alone. You have been far too arrogant, and that has been your downfall."

Conrart's eyes closed. "Do you think so?"

"I know so. Do you really have Dai Shimaron's best interests at heart? Do you really care for this country? Do you take me for a fool? I can see through you. You are spying for Shin Makoku, are you not? Or for another country?"

Sir Weller looked into his eyes. "You are wrong. I have no love for that country. I have given myself to Dai Shimaron wholeheartedly. What would I have to gain by spying on you? I would be a fool to even try. No, I am here on good faith. I believe in your cause. I wish to see you unify the world."

"Can you prove this to me?"

"What must I do?"

Belar leaned back in his chair. He knew that Sir Weller would be valuable in retrieving the boxes… but he did not think he could trust the soldier with that information. Not yet.

"You will be asked to do what every soldier of Dai Shimaron must do. Devote completely your heart, your strength, and your arm to me, your King."

Sir Weller rose. Before leaving, he once again looked King Belar in the eyes, a barely perceptible smile on his lips. A cocky, knowing smile, one that had an infinite number of thoughts behind it.

"Of course, Your Majesty, my heart belongs to any king who will unite the world. My strength will not give out for such a king, and my arm will fight forever."

Belar's eyes narrowed. "Leave my presence." Sir Weller bowed and left, still smiling. Belar returned to his quarters and paced back and forth restlessly.

That wretch! That miserable goon… listening Belar's every word yet never completely obeying. Every man, woman and child in Dai Shimaron seemed to worship Belar's every word, obey his every whim… but not Sir Weller. He claimed his loyalty with every encounter, but there was still defiance in his eyes. Belar saw it now. Sir Weller wanted the throne to Dai Shimaron, to unite the world himself. He was loyal only to the throne, but not to its King. And the most frightening thing was how powerless it made Belar feel. Belar had to have him. His undying loyalty, his complete submission, everything. It was the only way. He would make Sir Weller love him, just as he had made his advisors love him, his servants, even his prisoners. It wasn't enough that Sir Weller fought on his side. Belar needed to have complete power over him.

Sir Weller's skills were a great asset to Dai Shimaron, but at this moment Belar did not care about that. He only wanted what he seemingly could not have: the heart of the Dai Shimaron Patriot.

After spending some time pacing in his room, Belar had made up his mind. He slammed open his door and went looking for Sir Weller. The soldier was in the library. Belar ordered his guards to leave them be. Sir Weller seemed engrossed in what he was reading, and did not notice the king entering from behind.

Belar grabbed Conrart's arm and yanked him out of his chair. Grasping him by his shoulders, Belar shoved him against the wall forcefully. Sir Weller grabbed Belar's arm in return, as if to throw him off, but then he paused. His eyes narrowed.

"Is this what you want from me?" he asked.

"You're very perceptive, Sir Weller. A servant must learn to obey his master's every will, to serve him fully. Do you wish to prove your loyalty once and for all?"

Conrart's eyes pierced his for a long moment. Then they closed.

"I will do whatever His Majesty wishes." Belar's eyes narrowed and he smiled. He reached up and grabbed the soldier by the neck, pulling his face down, and they kissed. Sir Weller seemed tense. Belar had to tame him.

Conrart put his arms around Belar's back. Belar spoke between kisses.

"You are going to help me… together, we will find the four great boxes… they will bring glory to Dai Shimaron… submit to me completely… and all will be yours."

"As Your Majesy wishes…" said Sir Weller, and Belar left the room as suddenly as he came, barking orders at his guards, once again in power. Sir Weller sat back down in his seat. Briefly, he touched his left arm, and returning to his book, he smiled victoriously.


	6. The Name of the Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Kyou Kara Maou short story inspired this chapter. It is called "The Name of the Star." It's hard to find an English translation, but it is worth the effort.

"Hail our victorious King!"

Such came the cries from the people of Dai Shimaron as the royal carriage rode by, its passenger waving slowly with closed fingers, smiling at his people. Indeed, Belar felt victorious as he journeyed from palace to palace. He surveyed the lands he ruled, the people over whom he had complete power, none more so than the man who sat across from him. Sir Weller sat like a great swordsman, tall and unafraid, but Belar knew now how obedient he could be…

The king had devised many ways to make Sir Weller obey him. Orders that could be simple, sexual, complicated or repugnant and Sir Weller obeyed them all without as much as a grimace on his face. It was as if he was programmed to serve wholeheartedly, to do as he was told without question. Clearly his many years in the military had taught him this. Did he know he could be so much greater than a simple servant to a king? Did he care? As Belar spent more time with him, he saw Sir Weller's true powers. The man could rule countries, defeat any opponent and show no remorse, lead armies to victory and bring peace to the entire region… and yet here he was, kissing Belar's feet. Why else would he do these things save for pure loyalty to Dai Shimaron and its king? Yet Belar was still uneasy.

That night began like many other nights as of late. Conrart sat on the balcony of his room. Belar watched him bend down to take off his boots. He slipped his feet out of them and sat them neatly by his feet. Then he looked up at the sky for a long time.

"What are you thinking?" asked Belar, sitting with his arms crossed a few feet away.

"I was wondering if the people of Dai Shimaron name the stars." said Sir Weller. Belar rolled his eyes.

"It's funny… I never asked my father what he called them. It wasn't until after he died that I learned the demons' names for them… the Lone Fox Star, the Boxing Squirrel, the Thunder Mouse." He pointed at each constellation in succession, his eyes shining. He was remembering something from his past, something which clearly moved him. "I feel very far away from that now."

"You are far away from that old world. You are in Dai Shimaron now. We have our own names. I can tell you them, if you like."

Sir Weller smiled and leaned back, folding his arms. "I guess this is a little cliché, isn't it? Sitting here, looking at the sky like children. But I feel blessed to do it, because not everyone can." As he stared up at the stars his fingers absent-mindedly tapped the top of his arm. A strong pulse, then a weak pulse. "No matter where I am, some things don't change too much." He got to his feet, grabbed his boots from the floor, and went to the door to enter his room. Belar put a hand on his arm.

"Stay here," he said. Conrart nodded and tossed the boots by the door before sitting next to his master. Belar touched a strand of Sir Weller's hair and twirled it, smiling ever so slightly. Conrart looked down and smiled as well. He was prepared for what would come next. However…

Belar pulled him into an embrace, and Conrart turned his face to the sky. The Northern Star shone upon his face, and he looked at it as he embraced his new master, and closed his eyes in shame. More than any other moment, he felt the pain of his betrayal and what it meant for those he loved. And while he was committed to his cause, he could not do it while the stars watched. It would break his heart.

You must come back…

"Let's take this inside," he muttered, pulling away. Belar pulled him even closer.

"We'll do this where I say we'll do it," he growled. Conrart nodded and closed his eyes. He felt as if everyone could see them. In fact, he knew they could. If he had known at the time what sacrifices he would have to make for this cause, would he have had the courage to go through with it? He opened his eyes once again and saw a familiar star.

"'The Lion's Glory,'" Sir Weller muttered quietly as Belar moved to his back.

"Which one are you referencing?" Sir Weller pointed to it.

"In Dai Shimaron, it is known as 'The Howling Wolf.'"

"It figures," said Sir Weller. And with the knowledge of what he had become, he knew that he could never go back.


	7. I am led by The Wolf

To the soldiers under his command, Sir Weller was The Wolf. He received that name one night while patrolling the border of Cavalcade. Before then, he had been seen by his men as Belar’s pet, some foreigner from another land who was inexplicably favored by their king. They didn’t trust him. They didn’t like him. But they obeyed him, their commanding officer, because of the retribution they would otherwise face.

Sir Weller followed every rule to the letter. He knew every military command under the sun, and expected his recruits to follow them religiously. And they did, doing drills day and night, and training for some unknown battle they felt would never come.

He was not a tyrant. He never mistreated a soldier, never hurt them or betrayed them to his superiors. But he was too quiet, too withdrawn. He didn’t drink with them, or trade secrets. They did not know a thing about this stranger. And they couldn’t trust who they didn’t know.

It was night. The skies were clear, and they could walk by the light of the moon. They silently marched along the border of Cavalcade, Sir Weller towards the front on his horse, the lowly infantrymen behind him.

The peace did not last. An arrow shot out from the darkness. Perhaps it had been aimed at their grand leader, but if so it missed its mark, knocking one of his officers to the ground. More arrows rained down upon the soldiers, who immediately flew into a panic trying to see their attackers. Soldiers scrambled to light torches and take cover behind whatever they could. Most of these recruits were pulled in from Shou Shimaron. For them, this was their first taste of combat, and they were terrified.

“Fall in!” came the stern call from the front of the regiment. Sword drawn, Sir Weller had dismounted. The soldiers quickly ran to their formations. Suddenly all went quiet.

“Show yourselves!” He called out to the darkness, sword held out in front of him. He was calm. This demon had patrolled the human lands long before any of his soldiers had been born. It would take more than a few arrows to threaten him.

Two bonfires had been lit, revealing the foes of Dai Shimaron. They were men and women dressed head to toe in leather armor. Their weapons were drawn, pointed at the Dai Shimaron army in front of them.

“It’s Cavalcade!” gasped one soldier.

“Why are you attacking soldiers of Dai Shimaron on her own soil?” Sir Weller demanded. “This violence is unwarranted.”

“Dai Shimaron scum!” they hissed, “Come to steal soldiers from our land? Take our food? Kill our women and children? Get away from our border.”

“You will regret any act of aggression,” Conrart said calmly, “I am giving you one chance to retreat to Cavalcadian soil. Go now, and no harm will come to you.” Their aggressors burst out laughing.

“A soldier of Dai Shimaron trying to make peace? It is too late for that. We will send a message that your precious King does not hold the hearts of all people.” And with that, the speaker drew his sword and rushed. At the same time, an arrow shot out of the darkness at Sir Weller’s heart.

With one smooth motion, Sir Weller lifted his sword and deflected the arrow, which in turn hit the attacker in the eye. His head snapped back, and he crumpled to the ground just feet away from where Conrart stood.

“So be it,” he muttered. “Attack!” Emboldened by this display, his soldiers rushed the men and women of Cavalcade. Sir Weller moved forward with them. A young soldier slipped on the blood-soaked dirt and fell to his knees. He felt a tug on his back as Conrart ran by, lifting him up by the shirt and propelling him forward. He was always moving them forward, towards the target, towards victory.

Not all of these soldiers were master swordsmen. Many had joined the army because they had nowhere else to go. But at that moment, it did not matter, because their Captain was at their side. When a soldier was outmatched, Conrart was there to turn the tide. More and more soldiers from Cavalcade fell, mostly at the hands of this… demon. He had no malice in his eyes, no aggression in his movements. He only wished to do whatever it took to protect his army. The soldiers from Cavalcade were willing to die for the sovereignty of their country. Sir Weller in turn would die for his.

It was the end. Conrart was covered in blood, blood that was not his. Like a savage wolf he had torn through the small army, determined to protect his men. To these soldiers he was no longer a strange, cautious man who drilled army recruits all day, but a war-hardened soldier who plunged head-first into battle. He would die a violent death or utterly defeat those who opposed him. It was nothing in between.

This, they knew, is what it meant to be a patriot, to give everything. They were led by The Wolf. He was their Captain. And they were proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Cavalcade border Dai Shimaron? It does now!


	8. The Raging Heart

Belar rejoiced from his throne. Finally, he could see the pieces coming together to form a perfect, unified world, with him as its ruler. He was coming closer than ever to attaining his heart's utmost desire… another box had been found.

To obtain this powerful artifact would mean that no one could stand in Dai Shimaron's way or contest its ultimate power. This box, in addition to the one Belar already possessed, ensured that every country would fall before him and his vast armies. Belar felt drunk with glee at the thought of the world's armies bowing at his feet. The all-powerful Belar.

And by his side… Sir Conrart Weller, his most trusted soldier and confidant. Belar had been wrong about this man. He realized that now. Sir Weller obeyed him unquestioningly, fulfilling his duties with pleasure, be them in the military or in private. Together, they would rule the world. Belar couldn't imagine such a reign without Conrart at his right hand…

And when the time came, and Belar passed, he would be made king. Belar couldn't imagine any other ruling in his stead. He would feed Sir Weller his doctrines, his policies, and impress upon him the importance of carrying on the legacy of Belar. Sir Weller was a hundred years old, and would live hundreds more. Belar would rule through him, even after death, for centuries. Sir Weller would be his greatest legacy. Historians would write for thousands of years about Belar the Great and his long-lived student…

Sir Weller entered the Great Hall, having been summoned from the library. He knelt before the throne as was his custom. Belar could barely contain his excitement.

"Rejoice, Sir Weller, we've found another box! Now we are one step closer to the unification of the world."

"Congratulations," replied Sir Weller, "Soon the world will bow at your feet. It is an honor to do so now, Your Majesty."

"The location of the box is the small kingdom of Francia. Have you heard of it, by chance?"

Sir Weller looked up.

"I have visited that country once before. They will surely submit to your will, as they are eager to be under the wing of the most powerful nation."

"That is good to hear. But with the recent goings on, I cannot trust the retrieval of the box to just anyone. It must be one that I can trust."

"Your Majesty?"

"Sir Weller, you must go to Francia and obtain the box personally for me."

"I understand."

"Though it pains me to send you away, I know that you will have little trouble, and upon your return we will celebrate our accomplishment… and your future ascendancy to your throne."

"Your Majesty, this is a great honor. I will not fail you."

Days had gone by, and Belar grew restless. Petitions to the King of Francia had gone unanswered. Those ignorant fools had no idea what they were dealing with! No doubt they were using the box as storage for any manner of unsightly things. How could they know that the box was a powerful weapon only worthy of Dai Shimaron? But Sir Weller was persistent, determined to acquire the box on behalf of his king. Still, Belar was no longer certain which he wanted more – the box, or Sir Weller by his side again.

He could not handle it, sitting in the castle waiting for news. He would go to Francia himself, and usurp the throne if that is what it took. Yes, that is what he would do. He would send his armies to bring the people of Francia to their knees if they did not surrender that which he desired most.

"Prepare the coach! Call in the Royal Guard!" he barked impatiently at his servants. This mission was far too important to leave only to Sir Weller… at least that is what he was telling himself, though in reality, he simply could not bear to spend another night without his charge by his side.

Belar's coach lurched toward Francia, its entire army behind him. Who would dare face such a mighty force? No one. These soldiers were trained by the best. Belar knew that with Conrart Weller on his side, he could not fail. It was impossible.

A soldier arrived and handed Belar a message through the window of his coach. It was from Sir Weller. The note detailed how he had captured, of all people, the Maou of Shin Makoku, along with the box. Both would be delivered to Dai Shimaron. Belar's hands shook as he saw the glorious pieces fall into place. Not only did he possess two of the boxes, with which he could surely unite the world, he also had his greatest enemy right in his hands. Now no one could stand in his way. His future was assured. This was all thanks to a raggedy, mysterious soldier who had been unceremoniously thrown in Belar's path.

And there he was. Now a knight in glistening Dai Shimaron armor, Conrart sat upon his horse. The box to his right, the prisoners to his left, he looked off into the distance victoriously. Surely poems would be written, songs sung, legends made about this glorious man.

As Belar approached, Sir Weller turned and rode forward, clearly surprised to see his master.

"It's King Belar! Belar has come!" the joyous cries of Belar's army rang out. He smiled and raised his arms, to pacify his loving soldiers.

"Belar!" cried Sir Weller, stopping in front of the window, clearly out of breath. Belar tried to contain his joy at the sight of the one he loved.

"This is quite an achievement, Sir Weller," he said, "Not only have you found the box, you have captured the Maou." He was unstoppable.

"I did not expect you to appear in person," said Conrart cordially. Belar looked into his eyes. Was this all he had to say? Was he upset at such a change in his plans?

"Just thinking about the box made me unable to keep still… Am I interfering?"

Conrart smiled. It was a perfect smile. "Not at all. Please inspect the forbidden box immediately." And he turned his horse around in order to show his king the spoils of his efforts.

The prisoners were roughly pulled from their horses and lined up in front of the box. And the box… this was what Belar had wanted all this time. For such a powerful artifact, it looked dirty and pathetic. No one could have determined that this artifact could destroy the world. And yet, sometimes the most powerful of gifts are never immediately apparent.

"So this is the Frozen Soil of Hellfire?" he asked, the question directed at no one. Sir Weller took his place at Belar's side. "With this I will have obtained two of the boxes."

"With this, there will be no other countries that will oppose Your Majesty," said Sir Weller. He was clearly proud of his efforts. He would certainly be rewarded.

"And since we have captured, the Maou, the negotiations with Shin Makoku will continue to our advantage. Your Majesty's stepping stone toward world domination will become more stable." What was he talking about? Negotiations? Would he simply use this skinny boy as a bargaining chip? Clearly, Sir Weller still had a lot to learn. Belar would use this situation as an example.

"Negotiations with Shin Makoku? Sir Weller, if the Maou were killed, wouldn't it be natural that we would win?" Sir Weller's eyes widened, but a realization came across his face. He clearly saw the wisdom in Belar's words.

"We will execute the Maou right here!" Conrart was no fool. He looked at the Maou, his former king, with what Belar could only read as hatred in his eyes.

"I understand."

There was no escape for the Maou and his retainers. Each was tied to the pole on the edge of a cliff. The only way out was through hundreds of Dai Shimaron soldiers. And in front of him kneeled the Maou, on his knees, flanked by two soldiers. His end had come.

"Not only the box, but to be able to kill the Maou of Shin Makoku, which has opposed us for so many years… This is surely the greatest day of my life."

"No." Belar looked at Sir Weller, shocked.

"There remains the day when you conquer the world." Relief flooded Belar and he laughed, as Sir Weller looked straight ahead into the eyes of his greatest enemy. He had caught on quick. Belar applauded himself for his decision in taking him under his wing.

And yet, a seed of doubt had been planted in his head. Did Sir Weller really support this execution? He was too soft, too forgiving. Belar had tried to force it out of him. But he had to know, had to test him one last time.

"Then let us begin. Sir Weller, you will do it."

"Yes, sir."

Sir Weller approached the Maou. He was just a boy. But he was evil. Belar could see it in the color of his hair, in his eyes. This is the evil being that interrupted the tournament, who opposed Belar's unification of the world. He was the enemy, and his was a fit ending to his life. Tales would be sung for ages about Belar's defeat of the evil demon nation.

The Maou's retainers screamed at him, begging and pleading the Maou to unleash his evil wrath upon the army, to kill and plunder and decimate all in his path. They called Conrart a traitor, cursed his name, just as Sir Weller said they would. And these were his former friends, his family! Conrart was right to abandon these fiends, these cowards. His place was not at the Maou's side, but in front of him, sword in hand, prepared to shed blood.

"To defeat the Maou, this sword is most appropriate." He held up the maken, the Maou's powerful sword. Rumors had spread about its evil, burning down villages and stealing souls. It was fitting that the Maou would fall to his own weapon.

"At last we have come to this." He lowered his sword and looked into the Maou's eyes. He was clearly savoring his moment of power. Belar hoped it wouldn't go to his head.

"What does Your Majesty believe about time?" There was no answer. "Time can bring us happiness… but it can also take everything away from us." He looked tired, the years of oppression and hatred cast upon him by the demons clearly evident in his face.

"During the fifteen years that I waited for Your Majesty to grow up, and for the day that you would come into this world, time brought me happiness every day." Belar's eyes narrowed.

"And after you came into this world… did that change?" _Shed your grievances; tell him the wrongs his has committed,_ thought Belar, _so that the world shall know the misdeeds of the Maou._

"This is the conclusion that I have come to, after all the time I have spent with you."

With a swipe of the sword, it was over. Conrart Weller's answer for all to see. And yet the Maou was not dead, there was no bloodshed. He now sat without bonds, his ropes cut clean through by his enemy.

Belar stood up, panic in his voice. "Have you lost your mind, Sir Weller?" Clearly he had. The two soldiers flanking the Maou were quickly cut down. This was wrong, all wrong. This was not what he was supposed to do. He had worked so hard, been so close. Why was he throwing that away? What on earth was happening?

As Belar's army, his useless army, stood in shock, Sir Weller began to free the bonds of his enemies. No one dared stop him. Even the pathetic fools from Shin Makoku clearly had no idea what was going on.

"Pick up the sword!" ordered Sir Weller to a golden-haired demon, as if he was a clumsy infantry unit. "Open an escape path with everyone, Wolfram!" What a fool.

"What are you doing?" Pure rage flowed through Belar's veins. He had been a fool. He had trusted that son of a bitch. He had given everything he had. Sir Weller had entered his home, his life, been closer to him than any man had ever been, and for what? This pathetic piece of trash, the Maou? Disgusting. Horrible. Malicious. Evil. That is all demons are. And Sir Weller would pay, with an arrow through the heart, if it was the last thing Belar saw. He screamed at the top of his lungs, ordering his men to open fire upon the demons. They would die here, every one of him, and they would know once and for all that no one betrays Dai Shimaron. No one does this to King Belar, the greatest King the world has ever seen. They would be pathetic stains on the grass, their bodies picked apart by vultures, though even that was too good for them.

Arrows rained upon the Maou, with Sir Weller, kneeling in front of him. He took two arrows to the chest. One stuck out of his leg. But he did not seem hurt, or tired. He looked Belar in the eyes, a hatred rising in them, but there was pride in his voice as his gasped out his final answer.

"My name is… Lord Conrart Weller… I have sword my entire life to Shin Makoku's twenty-seventh Maou, King Yuuri." Belar could not show him how those words stung.

"How impudent," was all he managed to say, looking at his former charge and lover. He would surely die. In the end, Belar had the box, and after Sir Weller fell, the Maou would fall with him.

A loud boom shook the ground nearby, as several soldiers were knocked off of their feet. A giant boulder had landed, crushing two soldiers who gasped for air, clawing to escape, before passing away. More rained down from the sky. They were under assault!

"What is happening?" Who would dare confront King Belar at the height of his wrath?

Flags bearing the Cavalcade insignia rose from the dust. An army stood before him, prepared to begin the attack. Boulders continued to fall from the sky.

"Belar!" cried a deep voice from the front of the army, "There is no way for you to win! Withdraw your troops immediately!"

"Yes! Give me back my beloved son, Conrad!" came another voice. The bitch that birthed the wolf. After all Shin Makoku had done to him, he was still loyal, still beloved? It defied all logic. Such a thing had never occurred in Dai Shimaron, and never would.

From another direction rose blew flags bearing the insignia of Francia. There stood its cowardly king, with his ridiculous hat.

"King Belar! From this point forward, Francia severs all ties to Dai Shimaron, and allies itself to Shin Makoku! Withdraw from my country at once!"

"Acting all proud of yourself…" Those fools. They had forgotten one thing – the forbidden box, still in the hands of Dai Shimaron. He would use it now, to decimate the impudent bastards and wipe them from the earth. He would still rule the world, and no one would stand in his way.

"The box! Bring out the box! Cut off Sir Weller's arm and show them the power of the box!" Sir Weller may no longer have been a willing participant, but he would pay with his life and bring upon the destruction of the world, if that it was it took to soothe Belar's raging heart.

The soldiers brought out the box that Belar had kept in storage for so long. He was sure the demons had not anticipated this. They would suffer greatly for it. Belar strode over to the box, drunken with rage. He threw open the lid… and realized that the box was not empty.

A grotesque visage exploded from the box. The face of a man sticking his tongue out at Belar, mocking him.

"What the hell is this?" The box was a fake. They had taken it. Sir Weller had been working with them the whole time. How much information had he stolen as he seduced his way into Belar's heart? The cruel bastard. But there was one option left…

Belar whirled around to find the Frozen Soil of Hellfire. It had still been in his possession… but no. As he had wasted time with the fake box, the small group of retainers from Shin Makoku had taken the real one. They now had three, and Belar was left with nothing. He seethed as boulders fell around him, cutting off his army. He couldn't retreat. He couldn't admit defeat. But he had to.

As he turned to leave with what remained of his army, he looked back at Sir Weller kneeling on the ground, vomiting blood. _At the very least,_ he thought, _he has paid for the betrayal with his life. This was the end of Sir Conrart Weller._

And that was the only thought that soothed King Belar as he hunched over in his ship, sailing towards home. Sir Weller would die. Belar would have other opportunities to unite the world, but the Maou's precious protector would be gone, and with him, Shin Makoku's greatest chance at success. What would that puny urchin they called a king do without the great Conrart Weller? He was nothing. They all were nothing.

Belar would sit on his throne, and take over the world. As he descended into madness, he thought of his people lovingly worshipping him, following his every word, obeying his ever order… but in his heart, or what was left of it, he knew that it wasn't enough.

Because Sir Weller would not.


End file.
